Luck O' The Finnegan
by SoulReductor79
Summary: Slash warning. Seamus finds a bit of felix felicis but can he use it for what he wants? Does he even need it for that purpose? Dean's in the bath, and he knows the answer.


Note: I wrote this just this afternoon, because for some reason I felt like it. I was thinking it'd be a one-shot but if you want more review and tell me so. As I said, I knocked this off rather quick so I hope it's of decent quality. This is slash remember, so if you don't like that you shouldn't read. I'm rating it 'M' to be safe, but honestly nothing remotely graphic happens. Please check out my other fic 'Arc's Point' if you have the time.

Rating: Mature, for intimate teen boy realizations of love.

**Luck O' The Finnegan**

'Professor Slughorn, I was asked to send you to the great hall.'

'What's that? said the round man as he fumbled with some small bottles on his desk. He looked up at the sandy haired boy who had knocked on the door. 'Great hall, you say?'

'Yes sir, Professor Dumbledore wants to see you,' responded the boy. He was a sixth year, and quite obviously Irish in origin. It was in his voice, but also in his eyes.

'I shouldn't keep him waiting then,' said Slughorn as he squeezed himself around the desk. The boy got out of the door way to allow the large man to fit through. Slughorn immediately began to waddle down the hall without even shutting the office door. Perhaps he's left it to me, thought the boy. With his hand on the door, he was about to close it when something drew his attention.

On top of the desk sat a number of the bottles the professor had been fiddling with. Some of them were glistening, and he couldn't help but notice them. He wasn't taking potions this year. It had certainly not been his best subject, but they still held a certain curiosity and he couldn't help himself. He had to have a look. Left on the desk were numerous tiny bottles, all seemingly filled with different concoctions. Some black as coal, others clear as water, and one the color of gold. This was the one that had caught his eye. The bottle appeared to have been used. There wasn't much left of the potion, but what was there shone like the morning sun. What was more it had a label affixed to it. This potion was called _felix felicis_.

He was certain he had heard this term before and racked his brain trying to remember. It was a conversation he had overheard, that much he knew for certain but he couldn't place it or who had been speaking. He wondered if Slughorn would miss this tiny little bottle. If he did, would he know who might have taken it? Somehow the boy didn't think he would, he wasn't in Slughorn's class and the rumor was that he didn't have much memory for students who weren't in his little club. In one quick motion he snagged the bottle and hid it deep in his pocket. He made his way quickly back to the Gryffindor common room, where he intended to find out what this potion was.

The perfect resource met his eyes as soon as he walked through the portrait hole. 'Hey, Hermione,' he called as he made is way over to a girl with bushy brown hair. She was sitting by the fire, with her face unsurprisingly buried in a book.

'Hi, Seamus,' she replied.

'I wanted to ask you something if you've got a moment,' he said, a note of anticipation in his voice.

'Sure, go right ahead,' she responded though she eyed him warily.

'Do you know any potions that look like liquid gold?'

'Only one that I can think of off the top of my head. There might be more though,' she added with a note of false modesty.

'What's the one you know? What does it do?'

Again she eyed him warily, though this time for different reasons. 'Well _felix felicis_ looks like liquid gold. It's a lucky potion, the more you take the longer the effect lasts. It's very hard to make, but it apparently works quite well. Why are you asking?'

'No reason,' he said quickly, 'thanks Hermione.'

Before she could even reply Seamus had taken off to the boy's dormitory. He remembered the conversation he had overheard now. Harry Potter had won a bottle of this potion in his first lesson this year. Never in his wildest dreams had Seamus thought he might end up with a few drops of his own. But now he had some, all he had to do was figure out what to do with it. So many things crossed his mind as he lay in his four-poster. Most of his thoughts were of plans to get gold, or get a high grade, maybe get himself on the ever changing house quidditch team. But as he lay there, slightly chilled, wondering about luck and chance, he realized there was only one thing he truly wanted.

'Oy, Dean, wait up.' Seamus jogged down the hall to catch up with his friend Dean Thomas, a tall black boy who slept in the bed next to his own. 'All right, Dean?'

'Yeah,' said a deadened voice.

'Come on Dean. Like me mam says, plenty of fish in the sea.'

'What? Oh … yeah, I guess.'

'Forget her mate,' said Seamus.

'I'm not thinking about Ginny … not really anyway.' Dean turned to look at Seamus, but quickly averted his gaze as though what he saw had hurt him. Seamus stopped walking. He knew that look. It was the look he tried desperately to hide whenever he looked at Dean. But I haven't taken the potion yet, he thought. I must be imagining things.

'Something on your mind? he asked. He lowered his voice close to a whisper.

'No,' said Dean simply and unconvincingly. At that moment Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley had turned up the hall walking towards the spot where Dean and Seamus stood. As they approached Seamus noticed the pair was holding hands, and he eyed Dean wondering how he would take this. Dean didn't seem to care about that, he was looking at Ginny. As she passed, her eyes flitted to Seamus and to Dean. Seamus noticed that she frowned and looked away after looking between them. Both Dean and Seamus watched her go with curious expressions on their faces.

'I'll see you later mate,' said Dean abruptly, 'I'm off to have a bath,' and he left without another word.

'Oh … right …,' mumbled Seamus, though Dean couldn't have heard him. The bottle of lucky potion still lay deep in his pocket. He was desperately tempted to take it, and yet it didn't seem right. So he wanted Dean, wanted to be loved by him. Surely _felix felicis _wouldn't work for that. You can't make someone gay. Dean couldn't love Seamus, no potion could change that. As he stood alone, pondering this unfortunate thought a hand tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He turned slowly on the spot and discovered Ginny Weasley standing there, looking rather serious.

'Hi Ginny,' Seamus said trying to smile.

'Hello,' she responded in a focused voice, 'where's Dean?'

'He …,' Seamus was caught off guard by this. The pair of them hadn't spoken much since the break up. They had played quidditch together and that was about it. 'He told me he went to have a bath. I'll tell him you were looking for him.'

'No, I'm not actually.'

'You're not?' he said surprised. Ginny and Seamus rarely spoke.

'No,' she said more serious than before, 'I'm not. You need to go find him.'

'Why, what's happened?' he said, this time startled.

'Nothing has happened, _that's the problem_. Go find him and talk to him,' she said and marched off.

So Seamus walked off to the Gryffindor baths, wondering what Ginny had been on about. He didn't really want to hear Dean agonize about the end of his relationship. But now that he thought of that, Dean hadn't really seemed all that upset about it. He was by no means happy that Ginny had broken up with him. There just seemed to be a muted disappointment of some sort. Dean had certainly been more distant in the days following the break up, but they had still spent a fair bit of time abusing the likes of Ginny and more recently, Harry. Even though both wore slightly guilty faces as they did so. As he entered the bathroom, Seamus couldn't help but ponder complexities of the human mind.

Inside the door was a small tiled outer room. The baths were split between boys and girls, boys through the door on the left and girls on the right. It was nothing like what the Prefect's bath was rumored to be like in here. These were just normal baths. Certainly luxurious by some standards, but the Prefect bath was said to be akin to the bath in a palatial palace. Through the door to the boy's bath he went, the sound of his trainer's echoing slightly on the tile. There didn't seem to be anyone here, but there were some more private tubs around the corner which the younger students tended to use. There was fairly large, pool-like tub in the center of the room. Seamus still hadn't taken to using that one yet. As he made his was to where the private baths were, he heard the splashing of water. That must be Dean, down at the very end. Seamus wasn't sure whether or not to announce his presence. Rather than doing so he walked as quietly as possible, barely lifting his feet, until he caught the sound of a whispering voice amidst the movement of water.

It was Dean, and he seemed to be talking to himself. 'There's got to be a way to tell him,' he whispered, 'Ginny thinks it'd be okay. She covered up for me …,' he trailed off. There came the sound of a great deal of splashing, as though the tubs occupant had begun punching the water. Seamus could see the result, from two bath stalls ahead water was trickling out onto the floor. He was still hidden from view, but he owed his friend a warning that he was there, particularly as Dean seemed to be struggling with something.

'Dean,' Seamus called softly.

There was a noise of shifting water which indicated Dean had been startled. 'Can I come and talk to you?'

'Why?' Dean demanded.

'I … er … I don't know,' he finished lamely.

'You don't know?'

'No, I don't. Ginny told me to come talk to you.'

'She did, did she?' he said bitterly. 'Why?'

'I told you, I don't know.'

'You don't? She didn't tell you …,'

'Tell me what?'

'Nothing … see you back in the common room. I'm still in the bath.'

'Yes, I can see that,' said Seamus as he now stood directly in front of the bathing stall containing Dean. Only Dean's head and neck were visible through the thick foam. 'What's going on? Why did she tell me to come talk to you?'

'I …,' he began, 'go away, I'm starkers you know.'

Seamus laughed. 'Yes most people in the bath are starkers. Since when do you care, we share this bath it's not like it's all that private.'

'What does that mean?' demanded Dean.

'Nothing,' Seamus replied quickly, blushing beneath his sandy hair.

'You've been peeking, you have,' said Dean in an outraged voice.

'What? Don't be a git,' he started, 'I only meant that it's not all that private in here, you sometimes see things even when you're trying not to.'

'So you have to try not to look do you?' said Dean, apparently enjoying getting the better of his friend.

'That's not what I meant …I …,' he began, but Dean had sent a splash of water at him and soaked him.

Seamus' robes were quite wet, and he was still blushing profusely. 'What was that for?'

Dean didn't seem to have an answer; he just smiled back in a very blank way. 'I think I'll hit the big tub. I can do some laps in it. Turn around there Seamus so I can get out.' Seamus turned and walked all the way back up to the main bath. Dean approached with a Gryffindor maroon towel wrapped around his lean waste. Seamus did his best not to look at him.

'Turn on the water, would you? You're right there.'

Seamus turned around and saw the row of fixtures, he turned a few of them and the pool began to fill with a steaming hot bubble bath. 'Good choice,' said Dean in appreciation, 'that's my favorite water and soap. Look away again.' Seamus looked away, not wanting to be thought a pervert and Dean took off his towel and splashed into the bath.

'Are you going to tell me why Ginny told me to find you or not?' said Seamus after a long silence.

Dean didn't look back at him. 'Why don't you hop in?'

'No,' Seamus responded loudly, too loudly.

'Why not? Your robes are wet, you might as well let them dry mate.'

There was no arguing this. Seamus could never remember the spell that you could dry your clothes with. So they would have to dry the natural way, and he didn't feel like walking back through the corridors with wet robes. 'All right then. Don't be looking.'

'I won't,' said Dean, 'I'm not you.'

Seamus sniffed angrily but undressed and dropped into the bath. The water was amazing, warm but not too hot. This end was deeper and only his neck and head were above water as he stood on his toes. Dean moved from the other end towards him, but he stopped about half way. Seamus did a little swimming from side to side. The two of them didn't speak for a few moments. Seamus finally decided to break the silence. 'I'm in the bath now. So what is going on?'

Dean looked uncomfortable, as though caught in between moving closer to Seamus or getting as far away as possible. Some feeling inside him was telling Seamus to move closer, and so he did, in a very slow and deliberate way. Dean stood where he was, his upper body half out of the water and glistening with bubbles. Seamus stared directly at him, trying not to take in Dean's body, only his eyes.

'I'm your best friend. You should tell me what's happening.' Seamus looked directly at Dean who did not look away, though he desperately wanted to.

'I … I, just can't tell you,' he said finally.

Seamus searched his friend's eyes for a moment. There was sadness there, something he had never seen before: the look of someone who is lost or broken. 'Fine,' said Seamus quietly removing his gaze. He turned in the water, his back now to his friend, to make his way out of the bath. A hand had reached out, a dark one, Dean's. It grasped Seamus' neck. Not in a malicious way, in a soft way, a beckoning way. Seamus stood stock still in the water. He could feel a body drift closer in the water, he was still facing away. Now Dean was there behind him. One strong arm coiled around his neck, the hand running through his hair. The other arm, smooth and strong, wrapped around his upper chest pulling the bodies closer. He felt Dean's arms squeeze him tight, and hold him. Seamus felt charged, feeling more then he had ever thought possible. Dean softly kissed the back of his neck. 'I … I still can't say it,' Dean muttered.

Seamus turned around, and pressed his body to Dean's. 'That's alright,' he said softly, 'I can say it for both of us.' He smiled into his friends eyes, they no longer appeared lost. Seamus kissed him, deeply and desperately as though this were all a fantasy ready to be snatched away. He had longed for this moment. Both of them had. They were two boys in the middle of the bath, holding the one they loved, never wanting to let the other go.


End file.
